Page 28 of Power & Punishment

But I still take time to look around and appreciate this small piece of myself. No matter how dark things get, this is the part of me that will always be worth protecting.

And if protecting it means dragging a certain brown-eyed detective into my chaos, so be it.

9

MIA

Iused to love how loud the city was.

It kept me from feeling alone.

But tonight, the sounds of honking cars, police sirens, and random shouting from the street below feel more like nails scraping against a chalkboard.

I sit cross-legged on the floor of my living room, hunched over files and photos scattered across the hardwood. I thought organizing the evidence would calm my nerves. Seeing a clear connection between clues always made me feel closer to peace—or at least whatever version of peace people like me are allowed to have.

But this case is different.

My eyes snap to the bag of evidence taunting me from across the room. His wallet is inside, along with my father’s watch I couldn’t bear to see collecting dust in the evidence room.

A sharp pain tears through me as I look away.

I’m not just staring at the pieces of the life of a stranger. This is Vince.

My sweet, caring, and sometimes kind of a hard-ass brother that didn’t deserve to die alone in an alley. He didn’t deserve to die like—God, I can’t think of that right now.

I groan, dragging both hands down my face before leaning against the hard back of my couch. The lack of sleep is catching up to me. It used to be my dad’s lifeless body haunting my dreams, but now Vince is right there next to him.

And there’s another person there too, but they’re very much alive with their voice curling around my mind like silk laced with barbed wire.

I know exactly who it is, but I’m worried if I give him a name, he’ll appear out of mid-air like Voldemort.

After last night, it feels like he’s everywhere now. In my apartment. At work. In my fucking bloodstream.

I squeeze my eyes closed, attempting to erase the thought before settling on the very full glass of vodka sitting to my right.

I grew up around men who drowned themselves in cheap liquor after doing terrible things, but it was never enough to drown out the constant pressure weighing down my conscience.

I peek at the clock on the wall, dreading what I have to do in the next twenty minutes. Seeing Dante the first time was hard enough, but this is going to cut much deeper.

This time I have to walk in there and face the disappointed look in his eyes when I tell him I couldn’t stay away from the one man he warned me about.

This was a mistake.

Going after Leo was a mistake.

So was kissing him.

“Fucking Christ,” I curse, pushing myself off the ground and onto my feet.

It was just a kiss.

A reckless, hot as hell, stupid mistake that I can’t stop thinking about no matter how many times I try to remind myself that he’s a horrible person who is using my weaknesses against me.

And maybe if I keep repeating that to myself, my body will believe it too.

And for a second it works.

It works until I start picturing the way he roughly pressed me against the wall and dragged his hands all over my body like he was trying to memorize every inch.